


Thorn by My Side; Distracrion in My Mind

by Rizaru



Series: Catching You [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Battle, Blackmail, Dark, Dubious Consent, F/M, Hermione Granger is a Good Friend, Hogwarts Seventh Year, M/M, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Mystery, Not So Evil Voldemort, Powerful Hermione, Prisoner of War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-06 12:38:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13411437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rizaru/pseuds/Rizaru
Summary: Everything changes when Voldemort gets a hold on Harry. Hermione is still out there fighting but will she be enough to save her friend from the Dark Lord? Or will they lose and get lost in the war?A continuation of Catching You but a differentuniverse, kind of anyway.. You'll see..





	1. Come Out and Play

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> This is a sort-of AU continuation of Can't Catch This and the Part 5 of Catching You.
> 
> This starts while Harry and Hermione are camping in the forests, Ron gone and with no idea of what to do next. It's somewhere during chapter 5 Runaways of Can't catch This.
> 
> Well.. I'll not say anymore.
> 
> Sirens - Elephante ft. Nevve
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Riza xx

 

Hermione knew something was wrong when Harry had sat on the same spot on the floor for many minutes, his eyes glazed and fists tight by his sides. She edged closer, a tight, uncomfortable weight settling on her heart as she took his form in. He looked bad. Shell shocked as green eyes stared unseen forward, mouth shut in a white line. Hermione saw a golden galleon clutched tight in his hand and she thought she already somehow knew what it was that had left her friend stranded in despair.

"What is it, Harry?" She softly inquired and settled her hand on his shoulder, gently touching a closed fist with her other, trying to pry the coin away for she knew it held all the answers she needed. Every detail she couldn't place without Harry finally telling her what is was that made him smile and worry so much all the time; what it was that made him take out his Map and stare at it for hours.

When she finally had the galleon in her hand, she was sure it was only because Harry had taken a deep, shivering breath and momentarily loosened his hold on it, letting her take it. Hermione kept her hand on Harry, letting him know she was there, if he ever noticed it from his shock. Taking a deep breath in, she turned the galleon and studied for the first time ever. It's existence was a given, had been such for so long, but she'd known Harry'd never let her get it. If only he knew all the things she did for them to survive.. She'd known it was coming - she'd done all she could to take it in calmly when it did.

_Hello Harry. I believe I have something of yours.. Or Mine is it now?_

She gasped and leaned back against the fabric of the tent. Her heart bet faster and Hermione had to fight to keep control of her feelings. Hope for it to have not been true had been feeble at best, she could process this with a calm, steady mind. A mind she and Harry needed her to have. Voldemort had Draco, and worse of all, knew what he'd done. Now they had to ask what the snake wanted, what was expected of them. The good thing was.. Draco never knew about Horcruxes. That would be their leverage. Suddenly she regretted destroying the Locket already with the fang of a basilisk. They could have used that now.

"Oh, Harry", Hermione said sadly with a hug. Harry was inert in her arms, stiff as a stick and turning colder from sitting still for so long.

Slowly, as her body heat warmed him, Harry twitched and looked at her with scared eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but looked so conflicted, so unsure of what to say, since she knew not what had happened. But Hermione knew and she knew it was time to say so now.

"I know You-Know-Who has Draco, Harry. I also know he's your.. friend and been helping us", she told her friend slowly, letting her words sank in and when they did, she continued, "I know. And I think it's good for you.. was good for you.. And I know you won't sit still, Harry. I won't let you lose, though. We'll make the best of this. I promise."

Harry stared at her, mouth wide open, and stuttered out: "B-but how? A-and thank y-you."

Hermione stifled an eyeroll and only said with a squeeze on his shoulder: "I'm your best friend, silly boy. What have you ever managed to keep from me?"

"Nothing", Harry mumbled after a short while of wanting to deny the truth.

"See? But we have more important matters than what you can or cannot keep from me. We need to reply to him. Do you want to do it?" she asked, her heart screaming at her to forget it ever happened while her logical mind knew it was of no use. Harry cared too much, he was too stubborn to let any more people die because of him. He'd do anything  _he_ asked of him to save people. Was he not Harry Potter, infiltrating the Ministry to save his godfather? Was he not Harry Potter, the boy who Dumbledore trusted with the fate of the wizarding world?

"I will do it"; Harry said and sure enough, Hermione saw that familiar glint light green eyes to a flame again as he retook the galleon and pointed his wand at it to change the message.

 _What do you want for him to live?_ Harry formed the words on the galleon and Hermione watched closely, knowing it was not her place to interrupt. She would only guide Harry, keep him safe with all she could. She wasn't sure if she wanted Ron to be here now. He could very easily only make Harry feel so much worse by being an idiot about the target being Malfoy. He could certainly have the emotional scale of a teaspoon..

The Dark Lord must have been expecting a message, because words appeared soon on the surface with a heating charm to notify them of it. The latter was useless, now, because their eyes never left the coin.

_You. I'll give you until noon tomorrow to arrive at Malfoy Manor or be sure to never see the youngest Malfoy alive.._

"He want's me", Harry stated, defeated, "I should've known."

His voice was full of bitterness and loathing that Hermione recognized all too well.

"I can't.. I will not leave him there to just.. die, be tortured", Harry said quietly, his voice breaking a little at the end. His horror and alarm were deeply etched into his being as he pleaded with her to do something.. anything..

Hermione knew from the look on Harry's face that they never could do that, it'd tear him down from the inside even more. It was never even a possibility was it? This truly was their worst nightmare..

"No more sacrifices so I can live", Harry finally whispered as she'd stayed quiet for far too long, his voice frazzled but apparent with newfound resolution.

"I know", Hermione simply said, taking Harry's hand in hers and squeezing it reassuringly, having sorted her mind regarding all the information she had and knew about Voldemort, about Tom Marvolo Riddle.

"But we must plan this first, before letting him have you there. I  _will not_ let you march there unprepared and get yourself and Draco killed. I'll have you go there to save you both. For that to happen, we need an incentive to keep you two alive while there."

Harry turned his eyes to her insecurely, but sighing in relief.

"I'm glad you're not coming there with me. I wouldn't want you to. He would kill you too."

"Exactly why I'll stay outside and fight him, Harry. But believe me, in every other circumstances I'd follow you down the path you'll go. You can trust in that", she told him giving her best smile. Harry looked at her with a peculiar glint in his eyes.

"Why would you do that? If you knew it'd not leave to us staying alive? Why do that when you could live happily?"

"Why are you going to save Draco despite it all going haywire the moment you set foot there? Why would you do the same for me?"

"Friends", Harry said and smiled a curious little smile Hermione could not fully interpret but she caught the meaning behind it and responded with a smile of her own.

"Friends, love, our greatest weapon in this war. Something Tom Riddle never knew, something he would know even less nowadays", she added and ran her thump across Harry's palm again to let him know she really was there.

"So I'll stay and ensure us winning this war by holding onto something you will tell him about. That something, to work on him, would have to be his Horcruxes. Regrettably we have none now and he would know the minute by reading your mind the truth of that statement if we appealed to having the Locket, as destroyed as it is."

Harry nodded a little, assessing the situation, too, thinking of all the possible Horcruxes left.

"We can hardly do anything about Nagini", he joked humorlessly when suddenly his head snapped up and he turned to Hermione, excitement bleeding from him in waves.

"Mafloy once mentioned Bellatrix floating about something.. She should have one - perhaps the cup."

Hermione's eyes started to gain vigor and she sat back to think it through. Bellatrix.. The witch many wanted a piece of for being as cruel as she was, Harry on the top of the list.

"She's a Black, as well as Lestrange", Hermione finally said aloud before adding gloomily, "She should have quite a secure Gringotts vault. I'm fairly positive it's there."

"That makes things harder", said Harry and slumped down, the words he's narrated many times no doubt going around in his mind:  _Gringotts, the wizard bank! Ain't no safer place. Not one. Except perhaps Hogwarts._

"That's it!" Harry shouted and grabbed Hermione's both hands in his, "Hogwarts! The two most secure places in the world! How I could I not think about it earlier?"

Hermione nodded growing more reassured as they seemed to work this out after all.

"Yes, that's brilliant, Harry! And Kreacher is there so you should be able to sneak past everyone and find it with his help. And with Marauder's Map, you won't run into people."

"So I'm going there?" Harry asked her, looking eager to do  _something_. He was brash like that, always ready to fight.

"I think it would be wiser to get a hold on them both so we can bargain for two lives. And yes, I think it would be better for you to go to Hogwarts while I go to Gringotts. There's not enough time for us both to go to both. And if one of us gets caught and things go awry.. What's the worst that can happen when  _he's_ pliable to kill you anyway?"

Harry looked solemn but nodded resolutely, the gravity of the situation only strengthening him further. Harry was amazing like that while Hermione had to keep constant fight with her rampant feelings begging to run around. She could do this. For Harry, for the future. She had to do it. Everyone knew she had the brains for it and she was a Gryffindor, she would let her courage guide her on through this all.

"Hogwarts it is then", Harry said and his eyes shifted out of focus as he continued thinking aloud, "If Bellatrix has the Hufflepuff Cup, then something of Ravenclaw's must be in Hogwarst.. Luna is a Ravenclaw, maybe she'll know something?"

"I think you should ask her. She'd help you"; Hermione said encouragingly from the side, "If you would also ask Kreacher to take orders from me? So not even orders you place on him are stronger than the ones I voice? If You-Know-Who learns of him, he'll be wanting a few select words with Kreacher. I think I'll also have to take your Cloak with me to Gringotts as I fear I'll be discovered otherwise. We know it is special in more ways than one."

Harry had paled at her mention of Kreacher and nodded while meeting her eyes, taking strength from the warm brown of them.

"Yes, let's do that. I don't mind giving you the Cloak. Better in your care than  _his_ ", Harry grimaced ugly and added with a forced lopsided smile that almost managed to make him seem the usual kind Harry Potter, "Plus I can nowadays do the disillusionment charm, thanks to you."

Hermione smiled, too and they set to have everything in order in the short time frame they had, making plans for both places and promising to keep a tight hold on their galleons.

"Keep safe in there, 'Mione", Harry said severely, back straight and ready for war.

"You, too, Harry", Hermione answered in kind, hoping she looked as unaffected and heroic as Harry did.

They both apparated away, Harry with Kreacher and Hermione alone, taking her lovely bag with her, while Harry had his backpack on. The last she saw of him were his steady green eyes, resolute and gorgeous. Hermione would make sure they never dimmed down in defeat.

As Diagon Alley appeared before her brown eyes, Hermione went through her plan. She could not fail now. There was too much to lose, no loose end left to tie once she missed one now. The sad fact was she knew next to nothing of Gringotts. She had no gold in there, had never ventured further down the assumed safest place in the wizarding world. It was hilarious, really, that now she was about to steal from there.

Even more reason to use all her advantages.

The things she'd practiced in the dark hours of the night. Needless to say Harry had been surprised she's been adamant for them to study these things.  _Imperio_ was an unforgivable, after all and not one of her favorite things to study. But for Harry, for them to win, she was willing to study anything that might prove necessary. This was war and they were the underdogs. They _needed_ these things in their repertoire, if not for anything else than to counter them. Harry was already practically immune to the curse, but that only made it a better practice for her with him as her partner.

And she also had the Invisibility Cloak of Harry's, keeping her unseen as the name suggested. A real treasure, keeping its secrets uncovered even while in use.

And the fatal flaw of her ignorance would be covered by an adequate goblin under the imperious curse giving her all the information she needed if her quite unpracticed skills in  _legilimency_ failed. It was the black spot in her career as a magnificent witch. But she had no grounds to test it; she did everything she could to practice both Occlumency and legilimency, but knew not how well that was going. Her mind was more stable, she knew, yes, but legilimency was something else entirely. Every mind was such an intricate universe she knew not how to view them properly.

She would have to find out now.

Or she would be in for a very dangerous visit to the farthest parts of the goblin run bank and its secret safety measures ready to burn her alive or eat her, torment her or whatever they did.

The white bank towered over her already, going up into the heavens. She had no key, no wand, no name, nothing. She had to be subtle, carefull.

A few men stood in front of the doors leading in, holding some sticks Hermione had never seen, but thought they seemed almost the same as what Filch had used in sixth year, meaning they measured something, perhaps things that magic hid.. Will the cloak be enough?

She readied her wand in her hand and inched closer, readying for confounding the two if problems arose. They looked solemnly but bored at the people in front, looking alert but relaxed as no one was coming at the doors, closed as they were. Hermione waited until a woman walked towards them, getting stopped by the men and poked at by the sensors before they opened the door for her, Hermione getting ready to slip past inside, readying her breath if they noticed her. The air suffled around her, the only indicator she even was there, and she was inside, watching the rows of working goblins. A smile crept on her lips for the small victory. Now it was up to finding a proper goblin to guide her.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Hermione slipped into a cart behind a goblin named Bogrod. He was old and full of white hair on top of his head and hands. He also wasn't the first goblin she'd taken. The first one had proved only useful in the information she had learned. To use a right goblin, as they all had their own vaults to govern. To obliviate the one she had taken the information, to be ready for everything under the floors, from Sphinxes to dragons. Cold shivers ran down her spine at the thought. Dragons.. Underneath her, right now. No wonder Gringotts was as safe as it was.

She'd learned other valuable things from the two goblins now under her spells, too. One was to use a cart but have it under a notice-me-not as they boarded it. The other being to confound the goblin checking the rail traffic. The cart creaked and started rolling down, down, going through some extreme curves that made her sick and clutching a hand to her mouth while they wheezed past vaults and other rails going somewhere else.

She was ready and waiting for it when a waterfall suddenly appeared in front of them, lifting the spell from the goblin just before they wheezed behind it, getting drenched, right after it casting the curse again and going unnoticed. She sighed in relief as the cart finally stopped in front of a giant dragon. The sigh was  _not_ for having a dragon in front of her, but for the fact she did not sit in a cart anymore. Bogrod knew the way to get past the dragon. They had metallic knockers that made the dragon flinch and back away. The sight made her stomach twist and turn, but the creature was not hers to save; she needed to be precise, careful.

The Lestrange vault door stood imposing in front of her and she gulped a little, anxious to get out of there and meet with Harry before they set off towards unknown. Bogrod pressed his whole palm on the door and it melted away. After a short hesitation, Hermione stepped forth and took in the vault. Full of money, treasures of many kinds, towering over her, indicating the wealth only a pureblood could have without doing anything of value. It was wrong.

She waved her wand and cast a proper spell, taught by the goblins, to counter the curses in place. There were gemino and flagrante charms in place, she'd learned, after schooling her knowledge in legilimency on the goblins. (It had been  _bad_ the first time she tried before steadily getting better and completing her requirements by using questions and reading their thoughts.) They would make the one touching one of the treasures there to get burned while the treasure in question would be duplicated, making it near impossible to acquire the right one.

Not wanting to test if her spells had worked, Hermione made her way through the vault without touching anything and keeping an eye out for any golden cups. She saw mirrors, candlesticks, paintings and the like, until her eyes were full of pictures of treasures, until.. she noticed a small golden cup perched on a shelf. Taking cautious steps towards it, she moved as though entranced to hover her fingers over it, before bracing herself for a burn, she folded it in her fingers.

No burn.

Only a small cup in her hands, holding a piece of the man they were about to meet - or Harry was. It would be suicide for her to go there now, she knew.

She left the vault, not taking anything else. She didn't want to touch filthy riches coming from the supposed 'pure blood'. Such hypocrisy.

Bogrod was waiting for her and they set off to leave the vaults underneath. The way back was uneventful, as she'd secured the way by getting to know all she had to know. There were many spells in place, yes, many things to indicate what was happening inside. Things that let the goblins up there know which vaults were being opened, for instance. Hermione had taken care to let the one checking them forget the Lestrange vault was ever opened. She left the goblin asleeo, memories of their encounter properly erased and walked out of the hall, waiting once again at the door for someone else to leave first so she could slip past them with her treasure in hand.

The sun had never shone so bright as she stepped out and inhaled deeply the fresh air, feeling powerful and sure. She had done what no one else ever had, had never been capable of.

Hermione Granger, a muggleborn, had stolen from Gringotts.

Hermione Granger, a mudblood, had stolen from a pureblood.

Hermione Granger, friend of the Chosen One, had stolen from the Dark Lord.

Feeling almost smug, she apparated away, hoping Harry was there waiting for her.

It was proved then: complacency leads to dire consequences.

How else could she have done what she had? So easily walked into Gringotts and gotten what she needed?

Voldemort, the Dark Lord, Tom Riddle, no matter the name, the man had better watch out: there were dire consequences for messing with her friends, too.

No matter if he was a wizard more powerful than her, oceans worth of knowledge in his pale hands, he had a weakness.

Hermione would find it and use it to save her friends.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

_"You are pleased then?" a cold voice asked in a dark room, regarding another sitting there._

 

_"Of course", another voice answered, disregarding the ire felt towards it, "The plan's going along smoothly. I know even you will find it.. pleasing one day. I know it. Otherwise she wouldn't have wanted this."_

 

_The first figure snorted, an undignified sound certainly not befitting of it, "She is not controllable. How could you even begin to think you'd understand her?"_

 

_"I just think I do", the second one said and shrugged, earning a displeased glare in return, "It's all I **can** do, given the circumstances. All we can do. We just have to play along."_

 

_"Play along.. with a row of children."_

 

_"Don't be like that. Even children have their uses. How else could there be you and me?"_

 

_"You are more vexatious by the minute"_

 

_"It's what I thrive to be, after all."_

 

_Another snort remained echoing in the room as the first figure left again through the door, wanting to get away from the other being, making his head hurt even more as time went past._

 

_It would prove to be hard times for him for sure now that the irritating presence had made itself known.._

 

_He'd just have to trust in himself, he figured._

 

_That's how he'd gotten as far as he had._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you thought!
> 
> I hope you liked it.. ehehe..
> 
> This is the thing I visioned when writing 'Out to Catch Them'...


	2. No Backing Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly; I'm seriously sorry it took me so long to update, but my mind needed some time to unwind and I know from experience how crazy I get when I try and abide by rules(deadlines) too much.. It's horrible, I assure you. Anyways, I'll try and update as fast as I can - I'm not stopping even though it might take some days to update. It was kind of a crazy pace to write so much every single day.. My brilliant ideas..
> 
> I just thought to say here that I've no idea how many chapters there will be in this.. I just know that I'll keep on writing until no more ideas come to me.. That's an endless loop, I've come to notice during the years I've been writing for fun... The stories just swell uncontrollably, becoming more difficult and intricate as time goes by. I'm a slave to my mind as it is.. Sigh.
> 
> Haha, well, I just hope you enjoy what my minds comes up with. There's gonna be Drarry here, too and not just Hermione fighting to save Harry. It'll be Hermione, Harry, Draco and Voldemort POV, as usual, whoever happens to have the most important thoughts to share.
> 
> Have fun, I hope!
> 
> Riza xx

 

Harry tightened his grip on the crown, or a diadem actually, as the feeling of apparition started and he squeezed his eyes shut.

Taking a moment to stop the uncomfortable spinning of his stomach, he stood still and smelled the fresh trees all around, but no alarming voices, which was an adequate indicator that Hermione had not returned yet. As his eyes took in the clearing, it proved his assumption and a tight feeling that had been bugging him for the hours he'd been in Hogwarts manifested itself more clearly. He hoped to god or whoever there was watching over them that she was alright and would soon come. Otherwise he really didn't know what he could do.

_Crack_

Harry swirled around his heart thumping in relief and hope and he saw how Hermione stood upright just a few feet from him, grinning like no unearthly puking-inducing spinning had happened. Her jovial and strangely prideful look made Harry smile brightly in return and he hoisted the diadem high up in the air as a greeting. Hermione's eyes took the crown in and she smirked before taking a step to Harry and squeezing him in a crushing hug.

"We did it", she breathed and Harry laughed in relief and happiness at the prospect of hope they literally carried in their arms.

"Hell yeah we did. You broke into Gringotts and I into Hogwarts. I guess we're really outlaws by now - not to mention we broke into the Ministry not two months ago."

"Oi, you", Hermione laughed and grimaced a little at the thought they weren't abiding by rules, "Don't scare me like that. What if soon we  _are_ hunted by everyone? I wouldn't put it past You-Know-Who to mission a spectacularly eloquent manhunt to catch us."

"Now that you mention it, he would likely do that. Or more like - he's already done that", Harry said with a little grim smile, "And now he's going to get me there in front of him."

Hermione hugged him again because of his uncertain and unwilling words to offer the only kind of lifeline she could to him.

"But now you'll have something to negotiate with him. He'll be furious, yes, but I'll have his soul in my hands. He cannot hurt you if he wants them back. And besides - despite every possible odds against you, you've always triumphed over him your whole life. If he wants to kill you, you'll have the advantage of wands over him. We just have to believe, Harry. Believe there is a world beyond all his horror", she told him and smiled a bit.

"I'll be here, fighting for you all the time. And you'll have my galleon, and even if he takes it, I can message him my requirements directly."

"Thanks 'Mione", Harry said with a little smile tugging at his lips, "I'll be sure to not do anything too reckless there. And to get me and Malfoy to safety. I'm a tough nut to crack."

They laughed for a while and enjoyed the calm before the storm that was coming. Hermione checked her watch rather reluctantly and shot an apologetic look Harry's way, who grimaced and swallowed arduously.

"It's time", he heard her say the words he already knew, "I'll miss you, Harry. It'll be strange to camp by myself now. I guess it'll be even more strange to live with  _him_ , though."

It was a feeble attempt at a joke but Harry took it gratuitously, smiling a lopsided smile before he stood up and cracked his neck to the side, making it pop a little. Hermione shot him a glare at that.

"To the unknown then. Be safe", he said and held the diadem to her. She took it and her brown eyes were rimmed with worry and desire to go with him, to fight all she could and not be left alone. Harry's throat constricted at the look because he hadn't thought how alone she would be once he left. It was almost more horrible than his fate, because he was going to where Malfoy was, where there were people, voices, life, while she stayed behind to find ways to get her friends back. Now leaving proved a feat harder than ever and he knew she caught his look of conflict, because she grinned and took a step back.

"Get on with it, Chosen One. We have a war to win", she told him and beckoned him, forced him, to grab his wand tighter and will himself away from her, to the looming Malfoy Manor he had never before seen.

The last thing he saw were her brown, bright, warm eyes griming into something dark and almost scary, to a feeling he had never gotten from her.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Voldemort saw the door crack open and reveal the young man he'd wanted to get a hold on for so many days, months, years - to feel irritation at the fact he stood there, looking into the uninviting darkness concealing the beasts within, or a beast as it would be in this case. There was apprehension on the spectacled face, determination, yes, no fear, for his own safety at least. The boy was stubborn as he had always been and made it so much more worthwhile to engage him into the trap Lord Voldemort wove around him so easily. Fifth year was his master piece, luring him in so easily...

The boy stepped in and the doors slammed shut unforgivably behind him, making him wince visibly to Lord Voldemort's amusement.

This time, the boy had come as he was invited, readily arriving by the clock to save, to protect, because of  _love_. Something the mighty being that was Lord Voldemort did not - did not want to - understand. It had always been a mark of weakness, of something to use to destroy, to tear to pieces, to disintegrate completely his enemies, making them crack irreparably.

Harry Potter did not see him standing there, in the dark, watching his every movement like a predator. While the approaching adversary had love, the feeling so disgustingly pure in lightness,  _he_ had hatred, bottomless, raw fury to fuel his veins.

This whole situation fanned the glowing feelings to flames, to fill him up in consuming, sweet hatred. He almost saw deep red in his line of vision, for his hatred was so vast. For it was such an abomination that this situation he found himself in to be, such blasphemy, if it had been something he believed in.

Harry Potter winced and his hand jumped to the black, untamed mane some called hair. Where it was, his mark on the boy, set there unknowingly, without intent other than destruction - perhaps it hadn't been the boy's after all.

Lord Voldemort wanted to sigh, to torture the unaware boy, make him  _scream_ in pain, kill something, see the light dim in the eyes of his victim and simultaneously  _know_ he was powerful, he was feared, he was Lord Voldemort who delivered death on a silver platter but never tasted the precarious fruit himself.

It was true, then, that blasted thing.

He took a step away from the shadows and reeled his hatred, his ever blossoming fury back, to make the boy more... capable for the occasion. It would not do to have him miss this.

"Right on time, Harry", he greeted slowly from where he stopped to look at the boy, like talking to an old friend, his voice almost light, deceiving.

"We were almost.. afraid.. you wouldn't come... But love  _is_ such a useful feeling, as we both know..."

He let the implication settle in, wanting to see pain, grief, anything that made the boy  _hurt_. Because as it unfortunately was... he couldn't possibly kill the brat... although the boy didn't know that. And while that veil of oblivion shrouded his green eyes, it would have to be enough to make Lord Voldemort.. content.

For now.

It was such a travesty after all.

He had to make every minute count; calculate every step to bring him closer to his destination that had no doubt shifted a little, but only a little.

The boy _was_ hurt.

A flicker of remembrance, of green light and a veil fluttering in the silence in his eyes before fury settled in to mask them away. Lord Voldemort had to admit: they had some things in common. Such a sickening notion, but true nonetheless. He was very sure none of them wished it so.

"Yeah yeah, I'm here,  _so great_. Just how you wanted, planned and had it, me standing here in the dark, with _you_. But where is _he_!?" The Potter boy yelled out his accusation and Voldemort revered the frantic taste the harsh voice had. It wasn't.. all.. so bad after all.

He smiled as dozens of candles lit up simultaneously all over the room, making them both more visible, making the boy flinch as he saw the expression on his pale, pale face. Not so bad at all.

"Who would you be looking for Harry? Severus, perhaps? To finish what you started when he murdered your dear mentor, Albus Dumbledore? I could summon him here for you, if you'd so like", Voldemort asked in a quiet, mocking tone, actually meaning the offer. He would be pleased to see Harry Potter hunt after Severus while he had to do nothing but watch, possibly, to the end where they both ended up incapacitated, bleeding and broken on the floor.

Harry snarled and looked murderous, a look similar to what he'd seen on the boy in the Ministry when he'd run after dear Bella, seeking revenge, ready to murder. He wondered how the old fool and the younger fool both thought love was so great when it seemed to make their  _light_ kind into killers they so despised.

"Not _Snape_!! Draco! I want to see him!" The boy said,  _demanded_. And oh, if that didn't make his blood boil. _No one_ got to demand him of _anything_.

Their eyes met in a harsh stare where neither moved back an inch, glaring back in pure hatred, so similar between them it made him sullen.

Lord Voldemort wanted to laugh in exasperation; he could read all the boy's thoughts without even trying. So clear they were in the green so much like the killing curse he wanted to fling at the boy.

He did not, unfortunately.

"Tell me, dear Harry, exactly _why_ I should indulge you in your little affair? Why not just end it all here and kill you before showing your cold, dead body to all those on your side, those who love you? ...Tell me Harry. Why haven't I killed you already?"

It was a satisfying moment to see the gears sift in the slow mind of a Gryffindor, so ready to jump in front of him, a Dark Lord with a wand ready in hand, without bothering to think through the possible, very real consequences of their brash actions.

"I... l.. Why _haven't_ you killed me?" The boy innocently asked and looked like his game was thrown completely off by the simple question. Voldemort smirked in a twisted way, relishing in the shock only he could bring so easily and wanted to hiss in contentment.

He did not.

"What stops me from doing so now?" Voldemort said, voice grave and low in the still existing shadows. He wanted to see had the boy been as stupid as he looked like, or did he in fact have a plan for escape. As a calming flicker passed green, he was sure it was the truth; the boy was prepared.

"Many things", the Potter boy said in a sudden sneer, gloating over him, "Many thing you don't know. There's a plethora really, things I know but you don't."

Lord Voldemort looked at the boy in silence, fighting the urge to laugh hard, high and low.  _He_ didn't know.. It was hilarious. Suddenly he decided it didn't matter if he actually indulged himself in the rare treat of laughed and the sound escaped his mouth in a loud tinkle, reverberating all through the air and making the boy flinch, eliciting yet another bellow from the Dark Lord. The laughing man could only hope the boy didn't hear the gloomy undertone it had in its mocking echoes.

Finally he controlled himself again, regarding the boy with almost amused eyes.

"Thingss I don't know.. I wonder are there any significant ones anymore, rrreally. More like, I'm quite certain there are some interesting aspectsss  _you_ don't know, dearrr Harrry", he said, partly in parseltongue, because it was so easy on his tongue nowadays and seemed suitable for the occasion.

He lifted his wand and saw green eyes regard it with caution. It was his old wand again, his loyal yew. Loyal, yes, despite the unfortunate connection it had with the boy. He just had to be more.. subtle about it.

"I doubt that", Potter said strongly, standing more ramrod straight and meeting his red eyes calmly, "You couldn't possibly know I hold something over you. Hermione is out there with  _two_ of your Horcruxes, waiting for a message if I and Draco are alive or not, ready to destroy them. After that, she would tell others and you would  _lose_ when they come to meet you."

The fury was as intense as he'd known it to be once he heard it by his own ear. It burned and made his magic crackle in discomfort. He breathed in deep and squelched the desire,  _the burning want, need, duress_ , to  ** _kill_**. The breathe traveled in the air, holding his feelings in its cradle, his magic delivering them to the boy to shudder in distress in the feet of his power.

"And what would she do if I wanted them back? You? I don't think so", he purred and walked a few steps closer. The boy shifted uncomfortably on his feet, looking unsure after his  _proud_ declaration.

"Why wouldn't you... Unless", quite concerned green lifted to seek some answers from his intent red gaze, "Where is he?"

Ah, the question again. Where was dear Draco. Lord Voldemort smiled wildly, a twist of his lips turning into something hideous.

"Indeed.." he whispered, looking at the boy gloatingly, " _Where is dear Draco?_ _"_

The pale conduction next to black curls was something to value deeply, while it lasted.

"Where is he?" the question was but a tremble, but the force behind the boy was magnificent in its distress, "You will get  _nothing_ out of this if he.. I will destroy you!"

Such harsh words, such hatred it made him smile all the more. The boy was in love, weak, loved too many people. And unfortunately.. It was something he needed right now.

"Bella", he called into the empty air and watched the boy flinch back, wand at the ready again, fury flickering past his eyes when a sweet  _scream_ tore through the air in heart wrenching agony. He had not made her torture the boy; he'd merely called her name. But Bella knew.. Dear Bella _always_ knew what to do to make him alive.

It was amusing to watch hope, relief, pain, fury, sadness and despair dance on his nemesis' young face at the wails of his dear, out of sight and out of reach but still audible in the despair transmitting through the screams. Lord Voldemort regarded the boy coolly, walking even closer, the boy not even noticing.

"Alive.. still", he whispered by his ear and made the boy flinch, "So, Chosen One, Harry Potter. What will you do? How will you make me give you two up?"

"We-we'll give you the Horcruxes for our freedom", he said with a slight stutter to his words and met his gaze once again with fervor.

Once upon a time, he may have took the boy up on the bargain.

"No. I don't think it'll be such a simple ordeal, Harry. As I told you, there are things  _you_ don't understand. How about you.. sleep over it and think of our possibilities?" the Dark Lord suggested and saw the flicker of something like bewilderment and fear in his green eyes, before a single, long, cold finger touched his forehead, where his famous scar rested.

"Good Night, Harry", he purred and the boy went out like a light, tumbling to the floor like a rag. He watched his form on the floor until a figure approached them, the wails of her son had quieted earlier already. Narcissa Malfoy reached them an unreadable expression on her face and Lord Voldemort smiled at her, benignant for once.

"Take him up to the room" he ordered her and watched the nod of her head as she levitated the limb body and walked out, not asking questions but surely wondering what had happened.

 

But wasn't that a question in each of their minds?

 


	3. Was He Not..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been brainstorming about the future of this tale, reason for me taking so long in writing as I'm not entirely sure how to tell you what I want to happen.  
> Also, my great-gran got taken to a hospital and we went to see her, making me unable to write.  
> I've also been writing another story besides OHaI and this, which I'll post in a day or two, whenever I'm finished with it.
> 
> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Riza xx

 

A door opened at the back of the now empty front hall as Narcissa took away the foolish boy driven by _love_.

Lord Voldemort could sense the frown marring the man's face cowered by a black hood, standing there and looking at his back intently, clearly as day wanting to say something, to upbraid _him_.

"I did not breach our agreement earlier", Lord Voldemort told the air in a bored voice, not looking back because he had no need to, no one important enough to _make him to_ , "so why are you so sullen, dear?"

The endearment as well as the words before it caused a sharp click of a tongue to penetrate the air.

The voice that spoke was not angry despite it; it was self-deprecating.

"I should have known you'd bend the rules somehow."

Oh, he certainly should have...

He did not tell that to the man, though, he asked a question instead. Still strongly in his quest for causing as much annoyance and dark emotions as he could, until the time was over for that. Time was always running low, never once stopping..

"Do you appreciate her gift, nowadays? Or would you have rather stayed and spent your measly life with your beloved and family? In blessed boredom and warm days of laughter and love, as they say."

There was no answer to his questions, because there was no need: they both knew the truth.

Voldemort turned around and saw the man not far, but surprisingly close. He willed his magic to bring the disguised man to him, close so he could see clearly. Effortlessly, the man skidded along the hardwood floor, legs straight and stumbling to stay standing. The pull of magic stopped when there was a foot or so between them and Voldemort extended his right hand to ghost his jaw gently, in a deliberate, careful way. Very slowly inching the appendage closer, and closer, ever close until it almost.. almost touched the soft skin, never quite reaching there. He could hear the air freeze, could hear the hastened breaths coming from the man, eyeing his hand like it carried all the things bad and evil in the world.

Perhaps it did.

"You should, if you value anything at all. Because otherwise, without her-", Voldemort drew out the words, bringing his face closer, too, so he could clearly show the man what he meant, what it meant to anger Lord Voldemort. He lowered the hood of the man with his magic, wanting to _see_ the effect he had on every living thing, whether they wanted it or not. He  _needed_ the reassurance, whether _he_ wanted it or not.

"-you'd be dead long ago."

He sneered and his face cramped up into a look so monstrous, so full of the foulest of emotions it made the man before him shudder and shiver in fright.

Voldemort smiled genially, pleased with his touch having the desired effect still and stepped back, never once even actually gracing the man's chin with his fingers.

"Know that there are always other routes I could take, things you wouldn't have guessed I could do... Because  _I_ am the wisest of us, _I_ am Lord Voldemort. You were a fool if you thought you could control me.."

He twirled around on the spot and left the man, the boy, to think through all he had caused with his naivety. Silly boy.

Had he really imagined he could control  _him?_  

Decide what _his_ Fate would be?

Because was he not Lord Voldemort, the commander of his own Fate?

Now what to do with these things, these elaborate chess pieces in his hands...

He set off to the upper levels, going to rake through the Chosen One's belongings.

There should be something interesting in there, something he could use.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Hermione had been very nervous ever since she saw Harry disappearing in front of her.

Nothing had come back to her, no message, patronus or even news from Remus, whose galleon she also had with her now. She marched the distance from her wards and back, wanting something to do but being unable to concentrate on books or spells, which would only most likely turn back at her as her mind was elsewhere. How was Harry? How was Draco? Were they alive? Well? Together?

Oh, how she wanted to know, oh, how she wanted to talk to somebody! But Ron was not there. He was gone, still, having left them. How she hated the fact right now, more so than it made her cry usually.

A heating in her pocket made Hermione halt in her step and stare at the pocket in which were the galleons she had. Shakily, hating how her hand vibrated with nerves, she let it dive and return with a warm galleon in hold.

Harry had to be okay.. had to be..

_Hermione Granger, I believe?_

So she knew where Harry was, but that she already knew. How irritating.

_Yes. Tom Riddle, I believe?_

She sent back her message, daring to use his real name, given how everything was so upside down anyway.

_Yes. You could call me that, if you wish I call you mudblood._

_How petty. And conroversial. As the other is a name and the other a sobriquet._

_The meanings are the same to the persons on the opposing ends, I believe._

_I say we don't use names, other than how is Harry. Do I need to go and start a war against you this minute? By destroying the two horcruxes I have?_

_A fighter. How becoming of the friend of Harry Potter. He is asleep._

_What did you do?_

_Set him asleep as I needed to relocate him and plan without him shouting by my ear._

_Alright. I can see that.. What are you planning?_

Hermione found it deeply unsettling how easy it was to talk with  _Voldemort_ of all people. It was the fact she couldn't see him, she knew. Otherwise she would have gripped her wand tight and refuse to lose concentration for a second. Now she could concentrate on what was important and not what kept her alive to discuss what was important.

_What to do with you. Your personal deposit is a large factor, should I say._

_Of course it is. I want Harry and Draco safe._

_Are you ready to give up the war for that to happen?_

_I will keep on fighting as long as Harry does and as long as my rights are at stake._

_So it shall be._

_As it should._

Hermione sent the final piece and sat down to ponder on the conversation. She knew they were safe and that Voldemort didn't know what to do yet. That gave her time.. to do something. Set up plans upon plans in case he started on a path they couldn't take.

What else could she do?

With her mind at ease, Hermione stood up and went through all she knew to be useful, all she had learnt for this. It was a lot. She smiled and started to cast them all, over and over again, getting more comfortable with her magic as time flew by.

More than ever, it was all she had.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Draco woke up with a start, gasping for air in pain he knew not why he felt - until.. he remembered.

Potter.

Harry was here.

Oh no, oh no, oh no...

He scampered up, only to fall heavily to the ground and stop for a second to see where he even was as his hands tingled where he'd leaned on them in landing.

A bed - his

A wardrobe - his

A strange window he'd never seen - not his

He crawled to it, glad the pain was only residual one from aunt Bella's cruciatus and not real, lingering pain caused by bloody gashes and broken bones. It was right by the other wall, not the one where his huge wardrobe was located in. A big and glassy hole was where once had been a milky white wall. It was only a few feet from Draco's bed, but somehow it took him ages to reach it, crawling miserably as he was, seemingly having forgotten he had feet and could use them. But he didn't want to, he knew there was something there, something he didn't want to see for real.

Draco lifted a hand to it and slowly, gradually, regretting it while doing it, turned his eyes to see through it.

A shuddering breath fell from his mouth at the sight of the room next door and Draco closed his eyes, in relief, in pain, in stupid joy.

There was a bed, as he knew there was. Big and fluffy, comfortable to lie in, Draco knew, too. And there, lying down on it, looking calm and serene, was Potter.

Alive, still.

Not yet having lived the repercussions of him failing. Draco had doomed them all. How he wished he'd stayed in bed that day and not gone down feeling smug and powerful, having just finished tearing down his Lord's wards in minutes the previous day, his new record.  _So fancy.._

So useless.

Voldemort had waited for him downstairs, talking with Bellatrix of their new plan regarding - Potter. Draco's breath had caught and panic had risen in his chest without him wanting it at the dreadful mention of the name. And  _he_ had looked straight at Draco, like sensing he was being traitorous and those red, red eyes had zeroed in on his silver, seeing into his soul so easily like no occlumency barriers were never even there. And  _he'd_ smiled.

Purred his name

_Draco...._

Taken a step to him, black robes coming in a wave behind him, like those of Dementors', moving even when nothing was there to make them move.

_I see you have many things to share with me, boy.. Many, many things.._

A shudder went through him, just as it had then, before cold fingers grasped his wrist in an iron-clad grip and took his mind to be  _his_ own.

There had been no use in fighting, Draco _couldn't_ fight, not when  _his_ coldness was engulfing his bones, his very soul, freezing him still, only his thoughts about the secrets skirting past with fervor, made to move by  _his_ will, for _his_ eyes only, for _his_ desire.

Afterwards... Draco was put to sleep.

Unknown hours, days perhaps, past while he slept, blissfully ignorant of what was happening, the final thought he'd had was that at least he was alive when his lids fell shut and the world disappeared into one of broken dreams.

Then he woke up to a sneering aunt Bella standing by his side, wand ready and giggling in her madness, whispering sweet nothings to him. Telling him of torture and pain, broken minds and how Potter would be here any minute now. Bellatrix Lestrange's version of sweet nothings, that was.

But the most prominent thing she'd whispered had been to stay quiet, to not let anyone hear, her eyes had lost their madness when she'd ordered Draco to obey, they had been dark and gloomy, but clear, adamant in their lust for  _him_ and all _his_ orders.

Draco had obeyed, if not for anything else than for Potter's safety, which was undoubtedly tied to his.  _He_ knew they cared about each other, had seen the unsaid promises between them when no one was supposed to know. Voldemort had sneered at his feelings, looking cruel and dark as he undoubtedly was. Deranged.

He had obeyed, sitting uncomfortably on the floor where he had woken up on, listening in on what had been said in the other room, one frail wall separating them, until..

_Bella.._

Such a gentle call had caused such a violent reaction.

Her eyes had gleamed in lust and madness as her wand rose and Draco screamed when the curse hit him, stalling his bones, his mind into a mess of  _pain_.

And now..

Now he could see Potter, Harry, laying there and looking peaceful, sleeping on the bed in their Manor. Somehow, Draco had no idea  _why_  they were alive. Close. Alive. There was a future somewhere in front of them.

Hazy but _there_ , attainable.

There were people fighting for them.

With them.

He smiled at the warming thoughts and opened his eyes only to jerk back in fear. Because red eyes watched him intently from the other side of the glass, gleaming in curiosity, burning his every response into memory.

Voldemort stood next to Harry, looking so out of place, like a nightmare Draco didn't want to have but had anyway, looking on silently, before he moved one robed hand towards Harry's sleeping figure and Draco felt something moving in his throat because of the movement, something bad, baleful. He swallowed. The feeling stayed, grew starker, more bitter. Voldemort watched him, red eyes never leaving him.  _He_ smiled.

Draco didn't know why.

He hardly ever knew anymore.

_Wait, Draco. Sit and wait.. He shall wake when it's time.._

And  _he_ turned and walked away from the room, something golden in his fingers. A galleon, Draco's mind offered kindly as he could breathe again freely, the glog leaving him and letting air flow into his lungs and make his brain work again. He slumped against the glass and remained there, watching Potter. It didn't even occur to him he could perhaps walk out and open the door, actually go into the room next door.

It was simple why he didn't even think it.

There was no way in hell  _he_ would have given him a window and left the door. Draco was a prisoner, a traitor whose punishment was looking on and not touching. For how long  _he_ wanted Draco to play.

Cruelty in simplicity.

Somehow, an important fact as crucial as his wand's whereabouts evaded Draco as he sat there, seeing a chest falling and settling back before repeating it, over and over again, making him fall into a trance.

It was stupid, very unthinkable, really, once he noticed it in a days time of lost opportunities and cursed loud and clearly.

Because as it appeared, it lay motionless on his bedside table, only waiting for his will to make it  _dance._

 

_Cruelty in simplicity._

 

_Because was he not Lord Voldemort?_

 


	4. Travelers

 

_"Do you swear to stay your hand from hurting, physically or mentally, Harry James Potter and Draco Lucius Malfoy, and stop from ordering anyone else to do so for you, unless absolutely necessary in order to keep our vow a secret ?"_

_"I do."_

_"Do you swear to never enclose, by writing, talking or by any other means, any information of our meetings, unless you love the person and they love you in return?"_

_There was a short pause after the words, as they were regarded simply atrocious and fully useless. Why should he want to tell about this to anyone - much less **love** someone?_

_"I do."_

_Nonetheless, the words rolled of his tongue, as his mind whirled and cemented the things he already knew, things he would soon know more of..._

_"Do you swear to work towards the goals I deemed needed and told of you before, of you going towards a fuller soul and taking my word into account and further doing by so if it is to appease the negotiations we had and your earlier vow?"_

_"I do."_

_It was ridiculous, all these words and things **he** should abide by. But more ridiculous was the future the boy had painted before him, the mind that had shown him it; the other Draco Malfoy in front of him._

_He'd appeared suddenly. One rainy, miserable day that made everybody stay indoors in escape of the pouring rain and gray all around. Even him, Lord Voldemort. The Malfoy Mansion was uncharacteristically quiet as there were no other Death Eaters present but the Malfoy couple themselves. Draco was at Hogwarts, for now, as their next lesson was in the future and he had other things to concentrate on. Such as the Elder Wand. He had yet to locate it, but he was getting there, he knew he was. There was nothing unattainable in the world for him, after all. The wand would belong to him and then there would be absolutely none more powerful than him once it was tightly in his grasp._

_His lone figure stood by the front hall window, a good place to watch the outside and see who was coming or going, a good place to stay unnoticed if someone walked in._

_And someone had._

_The doors opened and a figure walked in, acting suspiciously, looking around to verify no one was there to see him sneak in. Voldemort wondered why the wards had stayed quiet, no ripple in their magnificent, ancient surface. It had to be someone they knew, one of his own. He remained still, watching on and curiously wanting to know why it decided to sneak and not come in confidently._

_The rain pattered onto the windows harder than before, a sudden flash of lighting rumbling in its fury and lighting the skies above and the dark halls they stood in below the murky clouds. Lord Voldemort and the sneaker were cast in its glory for a few second that were quite crucial for the next moments to happen, both were donning dark clothes, both casting stark shadows against the white marble floor as the light came. Both seeing each other in it._

_They recognized each other, too._

_Pale blonde hair, surprised silvery eyes, skin almost white in the sudden flash that gave him away._

_At that moment, Voldemort had absolutely no idea why Draco Malfoy would sneak into his own home while he was supposed to be at Hogwarts, doing homework and practicing to please **him**. Instead he was here, taking his figure in and straightening up, the surprise leaving him as he took a step towards him after a slight moment of hesitation. Draco dropped the hood after noticing no one other was there and traipsed to Lord Voldemort, donning a confidence to him that was unheard of in any of their earlier confrontations. It unnerved the Dark Lord in a way he did not wish to acknowledge._

_"My Lord", the familiar voice called, still the same respect coating the syllables, but with a hint of something.. different._

_His red eyes pierced into the man walking towards him and as they did, confirmation over what was wrong about him came flashing in like the thunder only seconds ago._

_It was Draco Malfoy indeed. Same hair, blood and magic. But he was older, more relaxed, although he could sense the tension that kept the man in shackles despite his tries to quell it down. The blonde hair was longer and fashioned into a ruffled look, a slight stubble covering the stark jaw, but the most jarring thing were his eyes. They held knowledge the boy he usually trained lacked. The silver orbs were with a recognition of death and suffering, of conquering that and coming out as a victor. Voldemort knew those eyes. They could only be held by those that had waged war. And his Draco had not done that - yet._

_Which posed the question: who was this man. Or more likely, with his brains being intelligent unlike some other's, where was this Draco Malfoy coming from?_

_"Draco.." Voldemort greeted and did not move, only waited until the man was in front of him and bowed a little, an act of showing his allegiance. It reassured him of the implications someone coming from the future would hold against him, but only slightly. He never trusted anyone easily._

_"It pleases me to see you've come to me on such a.. depressing day from so far.. Tell me, why have you graced me with your presence today?"_

_'Far' could be many things, but he knew from the little spark in silver that they both knew what he'd meant._

_"I would be most pleased to enlighten you, My Lord, but should we.. sit down to discuss? I think there shall be more things than one we ought to share, is all", the older Draco said and smiled a little, lips quirked in a way Voldemort had never seen from his boy. It was.. refreshing that he showed such ease around him. After all, Draco had only recently begun thoroughly immersing himself in his teachings and relaxing around him. But this Draco.. was beyond that long ago, it looked like._

_"That would be best", he said and stepped closer, startling the man as a flash of apprehension flashed in silver as his hand clutched the black-clad arm and apparated them further into the Mansion. So it was still there, after all. That fear. Good.._

_He let go once they arrived at his office and willed the logs to light up with a short gaze towards the fire before sitting down onto an armchair in front of it, gesturing for his traveler to do the same in passing. Draco did, settling down and tying his hands together before his silvery gaze went to the flames, short indecision flickering past, but he caught it and stocked it into his mind to consider on a later time._

_"What news do you have for me?" Voldemort asked in a low voice, curious to know just what had made the young Malfoy heir search for him by going back in time to do so. They both certainly knew the repercussions something such as it could have and what it meant for the time they came from. After all, when it was over and the whirl brought the traveler back, the future mightn't have been the same anymore but drastically different. Littlelest things made up how human behaved, the littlest bird could change many, many things and none would be the wiser of the distraction it caused. None of this mattered to Lord Voldemort while sitting in front of his traveler. It was something from the future brought to **his** knowledge. It could only mean something preferential to him. Those who knew, those who used their information, they flourished and were powerful._

_It was there again. That slight indecision, which was hastily showed back by a flash of determination. Curious._

_"I come from the future"; Draco told him with a slight furrow in his brow, "The reason.. is that there is something I must tell you. It is extremely relevant. But first, I must have you promise not to hurt me once I tell you."_

_Voldemort wanted to scoff and ridicule the man. Why would **he** have to promise him anything? If it was something he wanted, he could take it._

_Draco seemed to know this as he spoke again hastily, having probably seen the vicious glint flash in scarlet._

_"I have practiced occlumency to another level, one that can hold you off. I know because I had Snape test them uninterruptedly. I have an antidote of veritaserum with me, in my body right now. And torture... Would you really want to wait so long? To test whether you could get anything from me and if the information was still intact by the time I cracked? I promise I'll tell you the truth, I'll take a vow of my own for that. And I promise I won't harm you - if I even could."_

_He fell silent, waiting for his Lord to speak. But Voldemort would not indulge the man's wish so soon. He had to think this through. Would it be worth it, to take something as frivolous as a vow to get this information? He loathed the idea of submitting to something, anything. It was against everything he worked for, being powerful, unattainable, the ruler of all weaker than him because they were not worthy. But this man.. this boy before him, his boy that didn't fear him but avoided his touch, was telling him there was something in the future he would want to know. And that indecision.. He wanted to know. It could be grave. It could even mean something had gone wrong.. It always did until he fixed it. Maybe it had something to do with Potter, even?_

_"I swear on my magic to not hurt you over the knowledge you hold", Voldemort said, resigned, but nonetheless the words were valuable and his magic tightened around his core before flaring briefly. Draco nodded in thanks, gravely, relaxing more to the softness of the chair._

_The reason, quite a good one for this vow, came soon after the man made his own vow, in the form of the words that next fell from his lips:_

_"Thank you, My Lord, for trusting in me. The reason I'm here is because in the future I come from.. you are not there. You will die in half a year."_

_Draco lifted his face to meet his when he delivered his crushing news. It was blank and solemn, but full of conviction._

_Voldemort's breath hitched. It had not happened in years, if ever. He was always collected, if not angry and killing men left and right, but even then, he was in control of his body. But this... he, Lord Voldemort, dead? In half a year, no less? It couldn't possibly be true, but both the vow and the boy's eyes told him it was. Fear, something he had shoved far away in his chest, raised its head and cooed in wonder as it was free again after so long._

_"How?" he breathed the question, red eyes flashing something vulnerable as he stared at the boy, his boy, in front of him, telling him of everything falling into nothingness._

 

A sharp pinch in his magic rose Voldemort out from his memories, having perceived them once again after the appearance of future-Draco. He was planning for a future where he would not be dead, no matter what it took. And the blonde man had made some things especially clear to him, making him vow things he didn't wish to. But now was not the time for dreading the things he'd had to do to keep alive.

The tinge meant something.

His Draco, young Draco, had finally left his room.

Voldemort smiled.

He would keep his normalcy and take more to it, too. Despite not hurting the boys.. He didn't have to, he  _had_ them in his grasp, ready for his... future-Draco's and apparently his, bidding. A fast apparition a few stories down brought him to meet the boy who he regarded with mixed feelings. He was not the man he would grow to be in another future, the one Voldemort had met and not quite liked, although he had to admit he found him a respectful figure. Not many could have pulled out blackmailing him into what Draco had. No one had, to be more precise. No one but his Draco..

The boy before him now was something ripe, something to groom. Voldemort was sure to do it right this time around.

 

 

* * *

  

 

Draco slipped into the hallway, slouching behind his door and looking left and right to see if the coast was clear, before he dashed to the room on his right. Where Potter was. Excitement churned inside of him at the possibility of seeing the boy in the room for real and not just through a glass he could not break. His hand touched the handle just as a preening voice said behind him: "That's not the way, Draco. You have lessons first. Bella is waiting for you downstairs. She'll have a go with you first before I take over after having a little.. chat.. with Harry there."

With deep trepidation, Draco turned around and felt his face constrict as he was met with snaky features and piercing red eyes locked into him.

"My Lord", he gasped out in a pathetic whisper after being found out just before taking the leap.

"Go on. I'll find you afterwards", Voldemort beckoned him away and Draco went, knowing he held nothing over the man while _he_ had everything over him.

After rounding a corner and not feeling  _his_ presence anymore, Draco's mind started processing all the things he'd found out during the while he finally remembered he was a bloody wizard. Firstly, the door  _wasn't locked._ It was ridiculous! He had been so sure and in the end, it was open all the while, only waiting for him to pass. And he hadn't.. Secondly, he was allowed to study as usual - well  _homeschool_ but train nonetheless while Potter was kept asleep until now, at least. If Voldemort was going to have a chat with him, he would no doubt be woken up soon. And thirdly, Draco had no idea what exactly was going on.

 _Nothing_ had been how he'd envisioned it to be!

It was driving him mad, honestly.

He wasn't killed on the spot, tortured (much anyway, Bella was Bella but it hadn't been too long), Potter wasn't killed (estimably because Granger had those 'horcrux' things), and now he was expected to go on with his life and.. what? Train and be happy with the Chosen One laying on the bed motionless with a war looming overhead and a sure victory for the Dark? Well, sure, there was Granger and those things she had but Draco wasn't sure if they meant much as he didn't know what they were.

It had him in twists, really.

Not that he regretted being left alive - it just didn't make any sense.

With a long sigh, he sauntered over to aunt Bella who waited for him in their usual training space on the second floor already, if the Dark Lord's word was anything to go by. Unsurprisingly, she was there, leaning against a wall with a wand in hand and smirking down at him.

"Ickle dragon! All good I see. Our Lord is such a magnanimous person, isn't he? To keep you fine and dandy even after.. that", Bellatrix cooed at him the moment the door clicked shut, dark eyes roaming all over him in a look for hidden bruises - he didn't have.

Without a doubt, something had happened to their Lord, making him less.. physical in his punishments. Once again, Draco didn't know what that 'something' was.

"Of course aunt Bella", Draco said and took his position in front of her, "I have a knack of keeping myself alive after all."

There was something like relief hidden beneath the scorn in her eyes, letting him in on the secret she held him in some regard despite.. that. Honestly, Draco didn't know how much Bella knew about what had went on between him and the Dark Lord that day.

The only person who knew all the questions Draco wanted was the Dark Lord himself.

And now from Potter, he was bound to find out much more..

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Harry felt sleep leave him gradually, taking away that something that had kept him dreaming about things he hardly had any recollection of anymore. Instead of comfort and darkness was left drowsiness and a feeling he should be doing something important and not lying still on a - nice and comfortable bed. That was not right. The bunk beds of the tent were okay but no where near as nice as the mattress currently below him. He sat up with a feeling of dread catching up with him, drawing in a cool breath of air and searching for his glasses frantically, until someone put them into his hand and he was sure he heard a tired sigh. A dark figure was near him, he noticed as his vision cleared and he saw who it was. Harry jerked back so forcefully his head hit the backboard of the bed in a harsh  _thump_.

Voldemort was standing next to him, all snake-faced and red eyed, looking down at him like wondering how he, Harry was supposed to be his downfall, when he was so utterly incapable of even waking up properly. Harry wanted to huff and say something snarky, but he did not simply because he was busy figuring out  _why_ he was sleeping next to the Dark Lord ready to murder him.

Then it flowed in, the memories of.. the last time he was awake, whenever that had been. Hermione, alone in the woods, him, coming to the Malfoy Mansion and hearing Draco scream.. Fear gripped him and he shot a sharp look at Voldemort.

"Where's Draco", he demanded to know with his tone borderline begging.

"Is that all you are capable of saying?" Voldemort asked slowly, watching him intently.

"It's all that's important now", Harry said steely, meeting the red fearlessly.

He saw a rare sight right then and there: Voldemort sighed and looked to the side, a smile of some kind lifting his lips up.

"Training, all right and in good health", the Dark Lord filled him in on the blonde's whereabouts with a glare of his eyes accompanying the message.

"I might even be.. gentleman enough to let you two meet if you behave properly. So think before you speak, Harry."

"You're keeping us?" Harry asked with narrowed eyes, remembering where their conversation had left of earlier on, "We want out or you won't ever be seeing those horcruxes again."

Red eyes regarded him for a long while, with an uncomfortable silence settling over them.

"..Why should I?" Voldemort finally asked, cool and collected, like Hermione wasn't out there ready to destroy the only things keeping him to this life.

"Think, child. She cannot do anything to them if she wants to ever see you two alive. She  _has_ to keep them safe. While I can keep you safe, with me. Say, if I exchanged you two to my Horcruxes, I would have to think ways to catch you again, while having the pieces of my soul with me, yes, but you would be there - aware of them. A threat. Why not keep you here, under my watch while the girl keeps a hold on them, forever unable to destroy them because ultimately, I have _you_. Harry Potter and his little.. lover."

Harry could think nothing to say back to the man, all the while feeling utterly stupid.

How hadn't they thought about this while going to such lengths to retrieve the Horcruxes?

And why could Voldemort trust Hermione not to destroy them?

If she didn't know he was fine, she could do something drastic and go on a rampage, leveling  _his_ plans and the likes at the same time, possibly.

But the most important question right now was.. what now? He was degraded into a prisoner, who could not be killed but would remain a prisoner, for as long as Voldemort wanted. This was positively bad. And Draco was stuck too, all because Harry had stumbled into that room that night - well not  _stumbled_ but.. it could be said like that, too.

"As you realize", Voldemort cut through the silence, "There is very little you can do to lift the predicament. I suggest you follow my instructions to the letter. I reward good behavior and punish unsavory conduct. It rests on you what you wish your time here to be, Harry."

"Reward.." Harry started, warily, not certain he could trust  _Voldemort_ in any matters, "What do you mean?"

"You get to see Draco, spend time with him, without repercussion on my part. Free time inside the grounds of the Manor - while I'm here", Voldemort answered easily.

"It's extremely easy for you... all you need is to answer or show me some things I wish to know."

Harry looked at the man, face blank with a hidden hunger radiating from his posture. For what - Harry didn't know but he wasn't sure he liked the look.

"How can I trust you?" he asked finally, only to see a belittling smile rose on thin lips.

"You either do - or get no reward while I have to resort to a more.. onerous way of getting information out of your little head", Voldemort stated with easy confidence.

Harry bristled at the tone and glared at the man before sighing in defeat, mutiny boiling in his veins nonetheless.

 

"What do you want to know?"

 

"Tell me all that you know about your dear friend, Hermione Granger."

 

Harry looked at keen red eyes stupidly, thinking was that what the man  _really_ wanted to know? About 'Mione? He swallowed and remembered she held the Horcruxes, maybe it was kind of logical Voldemort wanted to know who had his soul.

 

He opened his mouth and started to speak, all he knew feeling guilty but with no other options. He could only hope he said nothing that made the man interested.

 

As he was finishing, having told all about her intelligence and loyalty and other things, the look she'd had when he'd apparated away came to his mind again. Her brown eyes serious and dark with a feeling he couldn't place, the same thing that had made her almost a stranger to him. Harry looked up, finishing his final sentence, only to catch a flicker pass red eyes as they bore straight into his mind through his green.

 

Curiosity.

 

For that same look on her petite face.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all those wondering where the hell I've been and why there hasn't been new updates, the reason is: hospital.   
> My greatgran is living her last days and the whole family has been there daily the whole week. And if that wasn't enough, my great aunt followed after gg and is hospitalized now, too.... so yeah, there's hardly been time to write and I'm sorry for that but I really can't today, I'll try tomorrow, though.  
> Thank you for understanding!


	5. To the Unknown Future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grief has taken me from my projects lately.  
> Greatgran left us earlier than any of us could guess. She weakened in a week from a happy, energetic lady into a tired, suffering patient. Luckily she stayed with us long enough for us to bade the final farewell.  
> Now I'm back, writing as I can. I cannot say I'm back to normal as I'm clearly not, pain still lingering around my heart, keeping me from truly smiling. Nonetheless, life goes on and so does this story.  
> Thank you for waiting for me.
> 
> Riza xx

 

A steady cacophony of footsteps was the only sound in the room. Harry was pacing the - rather wide - length of his new room. A cell was an appropriate term, too, if one liked to be dramatic.

Voldemort had left him some time ago now, stranded in a room without his holly wand.

_No one ever seems to know what goes on in that dangerously brash head of yours._

As the gracious Dark Lord had concluded just before leaving, telling him he'd done good...

In ratting everything he knew about Hermione, that is.

His loyal, brave friend..

Harry could only hope she had more to her, something he hadn't known. Something to fight against Voldemort and help them leave these fancy rooms of the Malfoy Manor. He was fairly certain she did, or would come to have. She was Hermione Granger after all, the brightest witch of their year. One who no doubt knew more she let on. She had known about Draco, too. Something Harry still didn't know how she'd managed to acquire.

Yes, Draco.

The boy that was now his 'reward'.

It sounded so so wrong to his ears, making him want to grimace and grin at the same time. Because he really really wanted to see the blonde, know he was healthy and safe, no matter if it was because of him telling something Voldemort would rip out of his mind as easily as walking out of the room. (Which was impossible for Harry -he'd tried for sure! The blasted thing wouldn't budge..) 

The contracting emotions were something he'd sniffed coming from Voldemort, too, actually. And if that if any didn't make Harry wary and scared than he didn't know what would. The man being unsure about something was simply unheard of. It just didn't happen to maniacs like him, who were always certain, always calm and intelligent. (If not mindlessly killing everything that moved..) But they certainly didn't have multiple emotions concerning their long awaited foes in the grasp of their finger tips. But that's what Harry felt coming from the strange link between them, calmed down for a long time and only showing little trinkets of things Voldemort did or felt - until now, for some reason he couldn't place. Maybe it was their closeness. Living in the same damn house was certainly something they hadn't done before.

The stranger it went because Harry hadn't gotten anything but the most intense things after the little fiasco in the Ministry, but now he could tell the subtle emotions flickering in the red eyes, unreadable to all others. His only conclusion was Voldemort didn't find it important to occlude his thoughts away anymore, letting Harry witness exactly what he was. Because it most definitely hadn't been Harry who was occluding his thoughts away.

Harry wasn't one to sit still and wait obediently for something to happen. He was the kind who jumped in and did everything he could to make the situation better. Now all he could do was pace, step after step, turn, repeat. The dulling sound of his impatient steps on the floor making his mind whirl in vicious circles of his own incompetence. He could only wait in this big but boring room, wait for the next clue out of this situation to walk in from the door glaring at him from the other side of the bed. Harry vowed it had been hours since Voldemort left him with a platter of food.

Yes, sure, let's feed the little Chosen One so everything's find and dandy.

The ugly part was the food was delicious and that Harry had actually eaten it. Oh, had he contemplated whether to or not, but the idea of staying in Constant Vigilance was what drove him to eat the accusingly tasty meal. There was even treacle tart... Harry had started at the mouth-watering piece knowing it for the jab it was. 

 _Voldemort_ knew Harry loved treacle tart and found it appropriate to feed it to him.

It made Harry see red and grind his teeth together, making unnerving sounds while at it and staring at the innocent delicacy winking at him from the plate in its palpable irony. Oh he ate it alright. It had been ages since he'd even _seen_ a treacle tart. But not without planning for something vicious he could do to Voldemort.. It was too good to not eat, one bite falling into different flavors dancing on his tongue in a wonderful crescendo..

How he hated the snake.

How he wanted to eat another one..

How there had been only one...

Harry's treacle tart induced fury stopped short in its blazing tracks when the door opened with no indication or forewarning. He froze in place on the bed and stared at it with feelings of dread and peculiar impatience. Voldemort had said he'd be able to see Draco, after all.. Harry could only hope it was true and not one of the lies so many times woven into his mind by the man willing to destroy him.

In a flurry of black robes, Voldemort stepped in in disturbing silence, making Harry's eyes glued to the sight. They gazes locked for some indiscernible minutes as the two enemies met again, the tension like a being itself in the room with them. Harry would never again step back from a challenge Voldemort grazed him with, it didn't sit well with his stubbornness or values. Neither would  _he_ as it became apparent, when the Dark Lord curled his lips a bit dismissing Harry's whole being with a flick of his wrist which brought a levitating body into the door frame. Harry felt the breath leave him in a harsh tuck, dozens of steel ropes tying his heart into a mess of painful muscle. Blonde hair came first, head flung back as he lay on his back in the air, hanging in a awkward angle. There was no sound, no movement at all. He could as well be dead. Harry didn't spare anymore thought to the red eyes regarding his dilemma in silent curiosity, his whole being was dedicated to praying, hoping, looking for any sign that Draco was still alive.

"One Draco Malfoy, as promised", Voldemort drawled out in a bored tone, sadistic amusement seeping in its undertones, "We never agreed on in which state you'd receive him, though. Enjoy, my Chosen One."

And the darkness was gone as well as it had invited itself into Harry's room, leaving in its stead only a levitating body, steadily making its way to the bed besides Harry. He watched it come, speechless, afraid, hopeful before his muscles sprang to life and he was a flash of movement, standing up and rushing to the body moving to him, hands extending to touch, to reassure his frazzled mind Draco was safe, he was actually here with Harry. A warm body met his cold fingertips. A pulse lifting the blonde's chest in a steady rhythm, a clear indicator of deep sleep, of being alive.

A huge, relieved sigh escaped Harry's mouth as he sank down on the bed next to Draco, keeping his hands on the blonde as his heart hammered its way out of his chest in its deliriousness to reach out for the boy in his arms. Harry sacked. All strings snapping themselves shut as he lay his head on the rising chest underneath a silver shirt. Contentedness until then unfamiliar to him seeped in to heal his mind and soul as the soft breaths left pale lips. It was fine for now. It was all he needed to keep his mind going on, keeping up in making plans to escape.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Draco woke up groggy, his mind a depleted bucket in his exhausted state. His magic was sluggish, as it always was after a challenging lesson with aunt Bella or Voldemort or both.

This time was definitely both.

His legs hurt, his back was killing him - not to mention his head, which was pounding like no tomorrow. Voldemort had for sure trained him harder than ever. Draco chanced a slight movement, only to groan in pain as every single damn tissue in his body ached. He gave up and decided it would be okay to just lay still and enjoy the warmth and light of the morning sun seeping in into his room, as that was where he no doubt was.

A movement on top of his stomach forced Draco's eyes to fly open in shock. There were definitely supposed to be no one, nothing on top of him in his own room in the mansion. He  _always_ slept alone. Always. No exceptions, never.

And still, now, there was something on top of him,  _something that moved_. A serious offense if one were to ask Draco. But damn his sore muscles, he could for the life of him move a limb to see what it was. He sighed in his mind, cursing every thing in the universe for making him so vulnerable and tried lowering his neck - it should be possible, right? Apparently not, as a jolt of pain shot through him with the tiny teeny movement. Not his day.

But it had granted Draco with a glimpse, a sigh so rare he lay still, forgetting all about exercises that were made to end him and pain all over him as a mane untameable black hair greeted him in his retinas.

He only one person with hair like that. One person, wizard, who definitely  _shouldn't_ , in any case, be here laying on top of Draco to add the final touch to the mountain of bad things. He was supposed to be out there fighting, separate from Draco, only forgotten memories to guide them onwards. The person, the only one who Draco would allow to actually sleep on him, in any cases but not war.

Harry Potter.

With the name, came a flood of memories. Not happy ones, of no... Terrible, full of grief and fear for Potter's life, for his family. Memories of red eyes and cold touches. Memories of twisted smiles and crooked laughs in the cacophony of screams. The pain in his forehead exploded and Draco whined at the things having happened. It wasn't how it was supposed to be.. It was no where near what his darkest fears had been. Because while he had anticipated death and torture, he hadn't regarded waking up with Potter laying on top of his chest a possibility. The unfamiliarity of it made him wary, full of dread.

Another thing among all the others Draco had no explanation for.

Damn  _him_ , damn everything.

An unintelligible mumble brought his attention back to the warm body using his tired bones as a pillow and Draco calmed down with it sounding in his ears. Real, attainable. Once his limbs allowed such ordeals. It was the peace of his sleep, of knowing the Chosen One, Scarhead, Potter was safe and with Draco that made him keep his eyes shut, unwilling to face the things hiding around them. Certainly they weren't alone for real. The Dark Lord had eyes everywhere.

It was fine as long as he lay there. Let the world bare whatever it did, whatever horrible things that had happened. He had a stubborn boy clued to him now and it was more than enough after being in the cold and dark for so long.

Without knowing it, Draco slipped back to sleep, one hand sifting to circle around the body next to his in a pained but precious movement.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The feeling of utter contentedness only left Harry after he had unconsciously risen up and shaken of the hand previously wrapped around him. It was a jarring notion he regretted as fast as he had done it. He wanted to go back to sleep next to Draco and forget everything weighting on them. Sadly, it was not possible anymore as his thoughts had scattered awake, scurrying in a fit of fear and uncertainty. It didn't help that Draco woke up with a pained groan as Harry's hand had pushed at his sides and their eyes locked before neither was ready enough to regard the other after so long, with all the unspeakables ghosting heavily between them.

It was beyond awkward.

Harry hurried off of Draco, but their eyes stayed locked, silver on green, wide and scared, disbelieving and full of hope and things neither knew how to voice aloud. They had no idea how long they just sat and lay there, staring, minds working on all the things they knew and did not.

"How am I here?" Draco finally asked, rising to a half sitting position with a grimace on his pale features.

"I made some sort of pack with Voldemort", Harry told truthfully, "It was beyond weird. Information from me to us meeting. I have no idea what he gets from this. None at all."

Draco regarded him silently, refraining from moving too much.

"I have no idea what's going on, either", he sighed, rubbing at his eyes, "What did he want to know?"

"Everything about Hermione", Harry said, bitterly as he remembered betraying his friend. Sure it was nothing they hadn't known would happen, but being the one to speak, to willingly tell the murdered what he knew about his best friend was more degrading than Harry could have ever imagined. It brought a distinctly bad taste into his mouth.

Draco frowned, looking perplexed.

"Why would  _he_ want to know anything about the m-muggleborn?"

Harry shrugged, too tired to dive into the almost-there-insult.

"No bloody idea. My best bet is because she holds two pieces of his soul hostage over our lives."

"She what!??" Draco exclaimed, shocked, sitting up and bending forward in pain the next moment. Harry hurried closer, holding onto the slight shoulder and thinking should he even do that, but deciding he at least could. Voldemort knew everything anyhow. Nothing more for them to lose.

"He's immortal", Harry said, resignedly, "Soul cut into pieces to make him untouchable. That's why he came back. We've been searching for and destroying whose while out there. Hermione has two, one's here, in Nagini, I've destroyed two over the years and Dumbledore one."

"That makes.. seven?" Draco asked in a horrified whisper, "To cut one's soul into seven pieces... That's madness!"

"One of the reasons he's so unstable, I think", Harry said with a sigh, his personal shock over the revelation gone more dim over time.

Silence settled over them as Draco went over everything he was told, before he breathed in deep and met Harry's eyes in a determined gaze.

"So we're safe as long as Granger has those.. souls with her", Draco more said than asked, but Harry nodded nonetheless, "Okay.. What now, then? We're together here and  _he_ knows quite about everything we do. Regarding our.. relationship at least. But has any demands been made? Anything we have to do?"

Harry shook his head, thinking back to his short conversations with mouldy pants. "He only told me to behave and tell him everything he wanted to know and be rewarded with time with you. I have no idea what he's after."

He told with a slight blush at the thought of his reward being Draco himself..

Draco raised an eyebrow at him but said nothing, only staring at the wall behind Harry with an irritable air about him.

"What made you unconscious?" Harry asked after a while, only now remembering the state the blonde had made his appearance in.

"Training. Needless to say I was surprised  _he_ continued my lessons after having seen my betrayal. More like appalled, really, but it was like nothing had changed.. He has been abnormal lately.. it makes me twitchy", Draco frowned hard and remained staring at the wall. Harry looked back, wondering what it was that the boy saw there, but only a plank wall greeted his eyes.

"You're not the only one there", Harry muttered and they fell silent again.

It was taxing on his nerves, the silence. All had been so calm when they slept side by side, but now.. awake.. There was too much between them which drove a stake between them, separating and not allowing the air to clean. Harry brooded, there was no better word for it, sitting there so close but being unable to touch. Draco was so out of this world he didn't react in any way when Harry moved on the bed, his leg brushing against Draco's. Suddenly it pissed him off beyond measure and he saw red, once again, as he always did before Harry did something reckless and stupid.

This time he grit his teeth and crawled on top of Draco, yanked his chin up and plastered his mouth against the blonde's, taking the touch he  _knew_ they both needed after everything. In his haste, their teeth clashed together painfully, waking Draco up from his thoughts, no doubt as depressing as Harry's had been, and his silver eyes regained their light flashing to Harry's with a poised indignity at his painful kiss.

"You could have asked me, Potter", the blonde said, before craning his neck a little to gain better access to Harry's mouth, refraining from moving any other parts of his body, making it clear to Harry he was still in pain over the training. And really, it was no wonder if it went as far as him falling asleep on Voldemort. Harry moved closer, determined to do the moving for both of them and their lips met again, in a much more congenial kiss. It was soft and comforting, a 'hello' of sorts, clarifying how they were alright and together again.

"But where would be the fun in that?" Harry finally asked with a lopsided smile after he parted from Draco, drawing in much needed breaths.

"Somewhere behind the pain, no doubt", Draco huffed, but his eyes were soft and appreciating.

"Where do you _not_ hurt?" Harry asked with a laugh, but his concern shone through it as he balanced more comfortably on top of the boy.

"My lips", Draco said in a whisper, ghosting Harry's while talking.

Harry blushed, but also knew the blonde was not kidding and he actually hurt very much all over.

"Do you have your wand?" he asked, but was met with a dirty look that made his cheeks heat up even more.

"According to my previous knowledge, _yes_. I do have my equipment. And yes, it hurts too.. But perhaps you could help with that?" Draco said, the implication clear in his voice as he regarded Harry with half lidded eyes.

Harry huffed, not knowing should he demand the.. right wand or go along with what Draco was asking him to do. It was something they hadn't exactly done before.. Not that he minded doing it..

"I don't want you to hurt", he said, glaring at the git in front of him, deliberately making this harder than it was meant to be.

Draco's face softened and he patted his pocket and fished out his wand. Harry eyed it greedily but knew it would help them little as Voldemort no doubt was keeping some kind of an eye on them.. And that made  _this_ feel so wrong he shoved the thoughts away with a flourish, concentrating instead on Draco and the incantations he whispered all over his body, making himself glow softly. A sigh escaped into the air between their mouths, still so very close together and silver eyes opened again.

"I have to say.. sometimes you do have some useful ideas, Harry Potter", he murmured, lifting his hands up and drawing Harry into another kiss, licking at his lips before drawing a line along the seam and tickling a passage inside Harry mouth with his tongue. Harry let him in, meeting the tongue with his and nibbling it with his teeth.

Harry moved further in on the bed, moving his hands with him and trailing a line from Draco's chest to his pants, ghosting his hands along the bulge there.

"You still hurting here?" he asked in a fit of playing a flirty lover, tilting his head and looking up at Draco's eyes with a hopefully sultry look.

"Most certainly", Draco said with a small shudder running along his shoulders when Harry dropped his hand and caressed the member under the waistband of Draco's trousers.

"Hmm-mm, I hoped so", Harry whispered as he dropped low and looked up at Draco before exposing his treasure. The blonde sat still, watching his movements readily, one hand carding into the mess of Harry's hair and massaging his scalp with long fingers.

"I missed you", Draco said as Harry went down on him, closing his eyes and enjoying the calm in the storm, forgetting there even was a storm brewing outside their little safe room. In that moment, there were only Harry and Draco, picking up from where they'd left it like there wasn't half a year between then and now. Feeling together, warmth bubbling just beneath the surface, not yet voiced aloud but not mellower because of it. They were happy for a time before sleep took them again, tangled together, soft breaths filling the air and love filling their chests.

 

 

* * *

 

 

"My Lord?"

Draco, the other Draco, the traveler, whichever he was, asked worriedly and leaned over Voldemort's stiff body sitting in a chair in the same office they'd officially met in not many days ago.

Voldemort gasped aloud and red eyes flew open, a scared but incomprehensible look in their depths. His chest  _hurt_. It was warm and tingly and he was sure he was becoming ill as it had  _never_ done anything like it before.

"My Lord?"

Older Draco asked again, sitting next to him, but now appearing to be kneeling before him, silver eyes looking up and the boy hovering just out of reach. He'd never touch him voluntarily, Voldemort knew. Not after his efforts to make it so. He concentrated on the boy in front of him and tried doing what Draco'd asked of him days ago. Tried feeling the warmth. It was.. strange.

More so when it wasn't his.

Not truly.

"How can you bare it?" he asked, before thinking through just what he'd asked, what he'd done. Lord Voldemort didn't ask vulnerable questions. But Draco spoke over his starting annoyance, knowing what he'd meant and trying to alleviate it.

"It is what keeps me going, My Lord. I cannot say I know what it feels like to feel it for the first time, but it is good, healing."

Voldemort sneered and turned to look at the fire instead of the boy kneeling by him, the same as the boy in the mind he'd peered into just then. It was unnerving, having seen something so... sickeningly pure and full of  _love_ while knowing it was the same person now in front of him,  _his_ Draco. The fire burning in Potter's lungs, in his very being while looking up at the silver eyes was something so very different from how Voldemort himself regarded the blonde boy. But there were similarities, he had to admit, having seem how the boy talked about.. Granger. The best friend, loved differently than Draco. But still.. it was different.

He turned his red eyes back to Draco, who was sill and watching him, a hopeful glint flashing in his features. Silence settled between them and Voldemort simply sat and felt, looking into the same exact silver as Potter had; same.. but different.

There was affection, he knew that.

Irritation, yes.

Pride, something earned by being exceptional.

A tinge of warmth bubbling in his chest. Voldemort sighed, not bothering to stop it. In the days he'd come to know older Draco, he'd started acting with little regard to his Lord persona with the boy. It was pointless, as the boy knew him too well. It had been appalling, something that hadn't happened  _ever_. But here the boy was, meeting his eyes in a steady gaze, never once fearing  _him_ , just his touch.

"It takes time, I think", Draco's voice made him look deeper into silver, meeting more hope, but sadness, too, "But having them near helps, right?"

"It does", Voldemort conceded, "How much longer do you have?"

Draco looked away from his eyes, hiding his pain behind the pureblood mask they all donned before lifting his wrist and looking at the simple but elaborate watch ticking away slowly.

"Calculated by the amount of time I've been here and the length the hands have traveled, another three days, at least. I'm fairly certain I can stay a week here before returning."

Voldemort hummed and looked at the flames, same as the boy at his feet, neither wanting to think about the inevitable.

"I hope the future you'll return to is more.. amenable than the one you came from", he said, softly, not only for himself but the boy who came back to save  _him_ , too. Honestly it was something Voldemort wouldn't have thought possible. He knew his followers weren't the most loyal, anyone would know after they abandoned him so readily the first time.

"I hope so, too", Draco said after a short pause and Voldemort felt his eyes on him, regarding his powerful persona the boy admired but knew to be deadly.

But Lord Voldemort hoping the Traveler's Fate would come to be good didn't mean he didn't find it justifiable that he was forced to do things differently.

Oh, no.

He would make sure he brought some light fright and annoyance while working towards their goals. And while the boys currently entangled, oh so, pleasantly together were out of his reach due to that vow, one Hermione Granger wasn't.

 

And wasn't it peculiar that she appeared to be more than even the great Harry Potter knew?

 

Voldemort hoped she would grant him some entertainment along the way while he worked towards immortality, or more like, keeping it.

 

After all, there never was mention about him collecting all of his soul back..

 


	6. Power of Name

 

Hermione was growing more restless by the minute.

There hadn't been  _a word_ from Riddle (she refused to call him Voldemort) about Harry nor Draco in two days!

He should have messaged her about the situation long ago, preferably the same day the boys were taken. Didn't he understand she held two pieces of his pathetic little soul in her hands? Didn't he want them back?

Honestly, it was driving her bat-shit-crazy.

For two days now, she'd danced with her wand in hand, hexing the dummies littered around in teh woods alll around her with growing accuracy and power. Her magic was whirling around restlessly, agitated as she was. Spells, curses, hexes, anything went that wasn't too deadly. Having read all about dueling, she now knew how man different styles existed and how knowing a large repertoire helped, but that most important was being one with the magic you had.

And then there was that..

Hermione didn't want to touch it unless she had to. It wasn't anything pretty - and easy it definitely wasn't!

It could very well end her.

She fired another two hexes at a dummy before strengthening the wards around her solitary camp. Her body was spent, sore, and simply aching all around. Hermione sat down on the ground, back against the unforgiving surface of the pine behind her, feet stretched and hands limb by her sides. Her chest  _hurt_. It was empty, aching as her feet were. Sorrow and worry gripping it hard.

Hermione didn't notice she was crying until she couldn't see anything anymore, a sheen of tears obstructing her field of vision. Now, completely still, no more spells to fire, no more strength to move, her emotions earlier shunned out caught up with her unforgivingly. Sobs racked through her throat in sad little sounds filling the air no one else could breach. No one. As there was no one here anymore but her. No Harry, no Ron. Just her.

How had it come to this?

She had no power to stop the cries from growing louder, her tears more demanding. Hermione hated it; hated feeling so powerless and -and such a  _failure!_  

How many times had she promised Harry it would go well? How many times had she vowed to herself she'd save her friends? How many times had she failed them?

Sure, she'd broken into Gringotts - see how that ended up?

With Harry and Draco at Voldemort's grasp and her, lonely and nearly broken in some forest far away with a horcrux she couldn't destroy because she didn't know anything!

Hermione was outright wailing now, curled against the ground, the sobs racking her body avoid of strength it didn't have and leaving her even more vulnerable. Her mind didn't register things anymore - all there was were her terrible, horrible feelings of dread and longing for her friends. All-

"Missy?"

The nasal voice was so out of place, so sudden, simply something that was the last thing Hermione thought possible that it stopped her cries abruptly. She craned her neck weakly to the side to see who would have come here within her wards that no one should be able to breach. A small body, dark and blotched as her eyes were still full of tears, but still she could make out some large appendages coming from its head. The voice she had known, too, had learnt to connect it with home and people she cared about.

"Kreacher?" her voice was raspy beyond belief, escaping her throat nearly inaudibly. "What are you doing here?"

"Missy called for Kreacher, so here Kreacher is", the elf said simply, regarding her with unattached concern.

"But I didn't.."

"Not in words, no Missy. But Missy called for Kreacher in her  _mind_ , screaming for some company, Kreacher believes is true", he crawled and bowed a little.

Hermione couldn't help the small blush that rose on her cheeks, the other side pressed against the leaves on the ground. So she had really fallen to rock bottom, hadn't she? Even her heart craved another being so much she'd involuntarily called for Kreacher..

Yes!

Kreacher!

He would help her take the game again - he did know many things Hermione didn't, after all. Like apparating out of Hogwarts and being the house elf of both the Blacks and Harry Potter. Harry must've left some of his brave reckless and good luck to Kreacher; Hermione would certainly need it.

Her mind raced and all the dark thoughts were forgotten like they never were. There was much to do, much to plan and clarify. If Riddle was so petty as to not inform her of anything, so would she! She wouldn't destroy the horcruxes, not yet, but she'd get her answers - straight from the source himself. That of course meant that she couldn't be killed there.. Of, but she did have leverages with her that would surely keep even the self proclaimed Dark Lord chained up ling enough for her to do her bidding.

A dark smile lifted Hermione's lips upwards. Although she always lost to Ron in chess it definitely didn't mean she was a bad strategist. If Riddle wanted to play, Hermione would indulge him to the best of her ability.

This should prove to be fun..

 

 

* * *

 

 

Malfoy Manor was dark. Shrouded in the settling mist that tried to hide the Earth in a cloud of grey and obscure the tall forest from Lord Voldemort's eyes. It had been two days now. Two long days when he had Harry Potter in his grasp, the boy's confusion and befuddled happiness tingling the senses long blackened.

Voldemort had enjoyed the confusion and bouts of anger aimed at him while detesting the joy and love the boy felt with a tinfe of grief and guilt every time he saw a pair of silver eyes and a mop of silky blonde hair. Draco the younger, the one he could groom to be better than the traveler, had been his to train these past days. Voldemort had to admit, the boy had some skill. It was rather.. enjoyable teaching him the mysteries of magic none had sought out such as he had.

There was no teacher such as Lord Voldemort.

Still, all the while when wielding his loyal yew, the eyes hlinted in darkest brown flickered past his mind. The girl was put there, waiting for a mark, a sign, anything. But Lord Voldemort had not fulfilled her wishes. It was purely intentional. He wanted to know what the girl would try once she could no longer  _know_ if her friends were alright. She had potential, yes, brains, of course. But what made the Dark Lord await her next move was that glint in her eyes. There was fee opposition for him nowadays, few who could entertain him.

Because as outlandish as it sounded,  _he_ wanted entertainment. Not just mindless bloodpath and the quest for the Elder Wand - no. He graved something more. It was a nee feeling in his mind and body, one that had awaken with the arrival of his little traveler and his schemes. It had no doubt cleared Voldemort's thoughts. And now that it had actually happened... he was loathe to recognise that he might have been.. a bit insane earlier. Why had he wanted the Potter boy dead so much? Yes, there was a prophecy - but that in itself was the problem wasn't it? It had been a  _prophecy_. A whimsical thing that shouldn't be believed - yet he had, without even hearing it in its all glorified stupidity.

Still hadn't.

Until today.

And it was stupid. More so than he'd originally believed even possible. Lord Voldemort had actually invited in his own downfall. Had _chased_ after it like a mindless moron. What did that tell about the state of his mind these past ten or so years? But now.. now he was more in control again. The madness giving way to thoguhts he had long believed lost.

Such a magnificent gift it was. The mind of Lord Voldemort. Full of potential and ingenious ideas that he could make true, had made true already all the while shocking hypocrites who doubted him and his views. Was he not immortal? Was he not the leader of magical Britain? He was... oh, how he was..

Even now the power that was his magic had stretched out to cover the majority of the Manor, feeling the beings inside that hurried to make his wishes true. Magic was all about intent, as was shown in the three that were classified 'unforgivable'. Only those who meant them truly could cast them and unleash the potential they held. But what most forgot was that it was all the same concerning other magic, too. Voldemort intended to feel what his minions were up to, so he was. Simple.

It certainly didn't evade his mind that it was so easy only because he was so powerful, now the most poweful wizard that Albus Dumbledore was no more. No, it didn't evade his mind; it caressed his pride and made the deed seem more significant because there were few others who could even dream to do such things.

That was precisely why he knew the second something foreign stepped foot into to wedded land of the Manor and survived. Potter's friend, no doubt. None other would dare disturb him and come unannounced. If the intruder bore the Dark Mark, he would have known. But she did not. And she was close, appearing just a few doors away from him in the parlour upstairs. How..convenient..

 

 

* * *

 

 

Hermione breathed in a deep breath. She was in. The lair of the devil himself was all around her with Kreacher who had brought her in no where in sight anymore. That had been the deal. He got her in and snapped himself away so as to avoid the others (read: Riddle) knowing how she got in in the first place. It had been a stretch: not knowing exactly knowing if it was even possible Kreacher could get her in without the wards disintegrating her once she went through. Luckily they hadn't..

A feeling of danger was the only indicator Hermione got before a dark voice greeted her from the shadows of the room that she wasn't alone anymore:

"I hoped you would find your way in some day."

Hermione spinned around and peered into the shadows a hard frown on her face and her blood running cold in her veins with the different innuendos the magic brought to her skin, lingering more heavily around her now. This was Voldemort in the room with her. This was the first time she ever saw the being hell bent on torturing Harry.

"I cannot say I understand why that would be, knowing why I am here, but here I nonetheless am", Hermione said in a clipped tone, growing more wary as her eyes took in the form of their enemy.

Dark robes against the blue toned walls covered almost every bit of skin, flowing to the floor in lazy layers. The man was lean and tall, but she could not make out his face from under the black hood on his head. Hermione couldn't say she regretted it. According to Harry, the man was no beaty - anymore at least.

"Here you indeed are - without my horcruxes, if I am right. To give you a safeguard against me, yes?" Riddle stated with a hint of hidden amusement in his voice, the hood rising a bit and showing two gleaming red eyes and a hint of white chin.

"Naturally. I've made preparations in case something goes wrong for me here. The cup and diadem are in a safe place and the Order is aware where they should go should something happen to me", Hermione retold the back-up story she had made for her safe return.

"And would they truly be safe for the duration you will spend here? What stops your friends from going there and finishing the job?"

"Loyalty", Hermione said with conviction, "Loyalty to Harry and me. As well as the.. riddles I left in place, hindering their success with interpreting the location."

She was sure the irritated twitch of lips wasn't her imagination but actual movement despite it happening in the concealment of the hood. It almost made her smirk at her little wordplay. Little victories.

"Just what is to be expected of the brightest witch of your year", Riddle said and took a step further into the room, a pale hand appearing from the confinements of his robe and lingering over the tabletop separating them, "Why don't you sit down and tell why you've come into the Malfoy Manor in such a bad manner. Sneaking around like a thief - not appropriate for a young noble witch - which you aren't.. are you?"

Hermione wanted to smack the smirk away from the madman but restrained herself only because she could feel his magic lingering over her just like his hand did over the tabletop. Infuriating insane man!

"I might sit down if you do", she said with a tense smile but one it was nonetheless, "Thief would implicate that I'm here to steal something, which is not the case. Moreover, according to your outdated beliefs, I would hardly make a noble lady as there is no such relatives in my family to begin with, but neither would you, Tom Riddle."

"What makes you all believe that throwing that name at me makes you succeed in anything is beyond me", the robed man said and beckoned for her to sit down as did he, grcefully taking the seat as if he was still towering over Hermione, "I was also of the belief we wouldn't use named when speaking to each other."

"Oh why would we when you deny your existence", Hermione muttered to herself as she sat down promptly, keeping an eye on him all the time. She had an inkling he heard her, but did not take her on the prompt.

"I am here to be a part in your wicked schemes regarding me and my friends. I'm fairly certain you know I want them back but your continued silence has left me baffled over your disconcern about your own welfare", she told him, words clear and devoid of fear, for the most part. He never needed to know if her hands shook a little or if there was a shiver or two running down her spine with the oppressing magic caressing her skin like a deadly lover.

The smile Hermione got in return of her words caused her stomach to turn in discomfort. Nothing good would come out of a smile so evil asRidflee lifted his head a little more to show his lips to her now. More pale white skin and a pair thin lips peeked at her.

"And that is precisely why I knew you'd come sooner or later knocking on our door", the Dark Lord chuckled darkly, a hint of red winking at her, "Too bad it was bound to be useless. I've no intentions of letting the boys go - no, let me continue. I will keep them alive, but with me. If you wish for this.. stalemate to continue and your Harry to live, you will keep my horcruxes safe and I will do the same to Harry and Draco. It's so very simple, isn't it?"

Her jaw stiffened and stuck still, refusing to open in the shock she no doubt felt. Hermione would not let him have the satisfaction, no matter how small, that he got one over her. How could she not have predicted this? As infuriating as the answer was, all she'd wanted at the time had been to ensure Harry lived, not that he'd be free. She wanted to curse aloud and stomp around the room to figure out a way to make this better. But Riddle was right: it was very simple.

"What do you get out of it? Don't you _hate_ Harry? Vehemently so? Why would you want him living under your roof? And what exactly makes me believe he even is alive as we speak?" Hermione fired many questions in queue, wearing her student persona like a second skin as she demanded answers.

"Why should I reassure you over Harry's wellbeing? Think how unfortunate it would be if you caused his sudden death with being impulsive?"

And _of course_ he answered Harry with questions if his own. Not that that didn't help; they did. Annoyingly so.

"So let's say you have some great scheme which requires Harry to live - great for me. But that also means  _you_ have to live to make that come true. And I will make it my mission to end you once and for all should you not let me meet Harry right this minute!" Hermione told Riddle with her anger bubbling just a thought away from the cool and calm surface she donned like an armor.

"I should be scared of you then? A little mugglebornn girl", Riddle asked and tilted his head to the side mockingly.

"You sure should if there's anything sane under that his of yours", Hermione said with a little smile dancing on her lips precariously and her brown eyes dimming to dark, to danger in her very soul.

"I find you amusing", Riddle stated and relaxed back against the couch, a smile audible in his agonist playful tone, "but now I'm wondering how far I can push you before you snap.. 'Mione.."

How dared he...

"You're playing with fire, Riddle", she snapped and only managed to barely keep herself anchored on the couch as her muscles tensed and quivered in tune with the sadness and fury in her veins, brimming with the familiar feel of her magic.

"I do hope so... Otherwise it would be quite beside the point here", was her casual answer, almost purred in a dark tone.

"Wil you show me, or do I have to take myself there?"

"Surprise me."

Despite the rage and knowledge he, for whatever reason, was enjoying this, Hermione knew she couldn't possibly call for Kreacher. So left with the only option she had, she stood up and walked proudly to the door and pulled out open and continued down the hallway, letting her magic peek outside and search for the familiar feel Harry's magic. What annoyed her more than ever, was that it came form next fucking door. She could feel Riddle's amused figure follow her to the door and loom behind her back.

"An original approach, Miss Granger. But I believe you forgot something crucial.." a voice whispered by her ear, making her steps falter and stop.

"I assure you, big bad dark wizard, you are very hard to forget when the same room. Not that we're all trying to do just that", Hermione said back calmly, despite the increasing tremble in her hands.

She then proceeded to yank the door open - to a scene she swore not to see again.

"Oh for the love of- not again!" Hermione exclaimed and wanted to simultaneously groan, scream in joy and hide behind her hands in embarrassment. The worse it became withthe chuckle sounding behind her, tickling her ear in mockery.

"'Mione!?" Harry squeak-shouted and pulled the covers more securely around his bare body.

"Not that it's not a pleasure Granger, but have you nott learned how to knock?" Draco drawled from beside his apparent boyfriend and Hermione scowled at him before both boys saw who stood behind her and went as pake as sheets.

"More than alive and well, as you've now witnessed for yourself. Now I believe we have more things ro discuss", Riddle said and touched her for the first time, cold fingers curling around her wrist in a vise-like grip that yanked her from the room and a scene that invited no third or fourth persons in but she wished to intrude on anyway. Because it was her Harry there, alive and well. Hermione didn't give a shit if he was here with Draco, happy to be together and enjoying themselves whike she suffered, because she knew what went on in that head of his most of the time: sacrifice, my fault, guilt, love, will to protect. So it was everything he deserved if Draco was there to keep him grounded while she remained fighting. Harry would no doubt fight on his own, in any way he could.

She didn't even notice they were back in the parlour before Riddle's voicebrought her out of her relief and shock filled stupor.

"You dropped your shield so completely.. such a disappointment."

And the next thing she knew was the cruciating pain traveling down her whole body in waves and screams rose from her mouth before she comprehended she was under the cruciatus curse. It might've lasted for a second or for hours but Hermione wouldn't have been the wiser once it lifted and she was twisting on the floor, a trickle of blood flowing from the gash on her forehead where the table had sliced it open.

"There is always a consequence of actions taken.. there is always a reward if done well and a punishment for misbehavior", a cold voice lectured her from somewhere overhead in a detached tone.

"For anyone else but the great Tom Riddle", Hermione grit out and struggled to her feet, muscles almost giving out due to the tremors running down them.

"Names.. why are you so attached to them?"

Hermione was taken by surprise by the unexpected question.

"I've been called many names over the years", she surely said and sunk down onto the soft caress of the couch, "know-it-all, bookworm, neet, killjoy, sweetheart, mudblood...."

She opened her eyes finally as it was ready to breathe again and met the shadows of Riddle's hood where his eyes should be.

"But none of them define _me_. I may be every one of those things, but so am I so much more than those labels set on my skin by significant and insignificant others. There can never be one such name to define me perfectly but my _real_ name: Hermione Jean Granger. As there can never be such a name for others, you included."

Riddle remained still, regarding her with such detachment she somehow distinctly knew it bothered him to no end. That feeling made her embrace the devil and continue digging out his self-confidence.

"Lord Voldemort is nothing but a facade: it's nothing real. That's why I said you deny your own existence. You may call yourself Voldemort all you want but in the end it's nothing real. It's not _you_  in any level that's truly important. There is magic in names, primal power that you deny. Yes, I know very well how powerful you are. But that is something without acknowledging your origin, it's empty power without the intent of your white being behind it. I embrace myself fully nowadays. It was not always that way - far from it. But then I got Harry and Ron and learned to love myself. The traits others bullied me for were something they -not appreciated, but needed. And that comprehension brought me closer to me, to my own magic which answered to the littlest wishes I had in a way I couldn't believe possible", Hermione ended her long monologue and felt the energy leak out if her bones and exhaustion take place in its stead.

"You should go, girl. There are unguarded secrets with you in the outer world", Riddle said from within his back robes and waved his hand so Hermione's hand fell onto the necklace on her neck that whisked her away from the Manor more than a little astonished. He's known all along. She'd only been an amusement to him for no other reason but to float his victory.

 

Sitting on the cold, damp ground in front of the horcrux staff she'd made for Lupin to find, fumes of rage could be seen glaring from the top of her wild curls.

 

How _dare_ he treat her like such?

 


End file.
